Fire Alone Can Save Our Clan, 1: Coming of Fire
by it-will-be-anarchy
Summary: Who would the 'Fire alone can save our Clan' prophecy be about if Firestar never came to the forest? Sort of a rewrite of Into the Wild, the same characters and stuff. Rated T because I think the Warriors series would be rated T if it were a fanfic.
1. Prologue

**Allegiances are the same as Into the Wild, so I'm just going to start with the prologue. This is what would happen with the 'Fire alone can save our Clan' prophecy if Firestar didn't come to the forest. Yes, I know, the prophecy was MEANT for Firestar, so it'd never have happened if he DIDN'T come, but STILL...who would be the fire that would save? Erm, I think for me, if you know my writing style, it's sort of obvious, simply because of the reason that I like girls as the main character...so, here we go!**

"_Fire alone can save our Clan_," Spottedleaf hissed ominously.

Bluestar felt her heart sink. _Another prophecy? _Terror rose in her throat as she thought of Goosefeather's words, long ago. _You will be like fire, and blaze through the ranks of your Clan. _Was _she _the fire? She was fire before...was she still blazing now?

Spottedleaf looked at her, and Bluestar could tell that she knew what she was thinking, even though Bluestar had never told her about the prophecy. Bluestar sighed. Spottedleaf almost seemed to read minds.

"No," Spottedleaf meowed softly. "You are not the fire, Bluestar. Your time has passed. All that is left...is to be destroyed by water."

"How did you know?" Bluestar meowed uneasily.

Spottedleaf's amber eyes glinted.

Bluestar changed the subject quickly. "But if...I'm _not _the fire, then who is?"

"Soon, Bluestar," Spottedleaf mewed, nodding her head slowly. "Soon."

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Redtail's despondent yowl echoed throughout the camp.

"Redtail!" Bluestar called, bounding up to her deputy as he staggered out of the nursery. "Redtail what happened?"

Redtail looked up at Bluestar, his eyes filled with grief. "She kitted, Bluestar," he choked. "One kit. But she died."

Bluestar's heart went out to her grief-stricken friend. She licked his ears comfortingly. "It will be okay," she promised.

Bracing her shoulders, she padded into the nursery.

Dustkit and Ravenkit were staring, their eyes blank with shock, at the unmoving heap that was Redtail's mate Sandpelt. Sandpelt's pale ginger fur was being stirred by her belly, and as Bluestar looked closer, she saw an identical pale ginger form by Sandpelt's belly. The little kit was kneading her paws against Sandpelt's dead side, mewling faintly for her dead mother's milk.

Redtail came back in, his eyes now smoldering with fury.

"That kit," he snarled. "That kit killed my mate."

Bluestar laid her tail comfortingly over his shoulder. "It'll be okay," she whispered soothingly. "Petalstorm will take care of your kit, won't you, Petalstorm?"

Petalstorm, Dustkit's mother, gently picked up the newborn kit in her jaws and pressed her close to her belly. With a bit of scrabbling, the kit began to suckle. Bluestar knew that Petalstorm would never leave a kit uncared for, especially since her other two had died at birth.

"She'll be like my own," Petalstorm mewed gently.

Redtail didn't say anything. Instead he took Sandpelt's scruff in his teeth, dragged her out of the nursery, and muttered, "Her name is Sandkit."

"Very well," Bluestar announced. "Redtail and Sandpelt's kit shall be named Sandkit."

Sandkit squeaked slightly and continued to suckle, and Dustkit quickly joined her, while Ravenkit went to his own mother, Leapfoot, and the heavily expecting Willowpelt curled up around them.

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Bluestar was worried about Sandkit. She got easily pushed around by her littermates, especially with Graykit, Fuzzykit, and Maplekit now playing, too. Sandkit's pale ginger pelt looked exactly like her mother's, and Redtail always gave her dark and forbidding looks, no matter how much Bluestar tried to soothe him.

Redtail never went to visit his daughter, and whenever she came up to him he snarled that he was busy. Bluestar wished dearly that she could do something, but she knew it wouldn't help to force Redtail to like Sandkit.

One day Sandkit couldn't be found. Cats searched every corner of the camp, but they couldn't find her. A while later, she streaked into camp, her eyes wide open in fear as she squeaked, "A fox! A fox tried to eat me!"

Most of the cats were scolding her gently, but comforting her at the same time and praising her for her ability to outrun a fox.

Not Redtail.

Sandkit became the fastest of all her fellow denmates, and even speedier than Longpaw and Darkpaw.

Redtail didn't care.

Bluestar watched Sandkit grow and show promise of becoming a great warrior. Suddenly, one day when Sandkit was grieving over the deaths of Fuzzykit and Maplekit from greencough, the fur on the back of Bluestar's neck prickled as she remembered the prophecy.

"_Fire alone can save our Clan_."

The sun shone brightly down into camp, glittering on Sandkit's pale ginger pelt, making it seem to blaze with sunlight.

**Haha, strange, wasn't it? Sort of? I don't know if Willowpelt was Graystripe's mom...the family tree on the Warriors site says she is, but the Erins only say she was the mom of Sorreltail and her brothers. SOOOOOOO, I don't know. I'm just following the family tree for this. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**


	2. Chapter 1

"Sandpaw."

Sandpaw rolled her new apprentice name around her tongue. She looked at Dustpaw next to her, who was muttering "Dustpaw. Dustpaw." Ravenpaw just looked fidgety, as usual.

Graykit looked at her enviously. "I want to be an apprentice!" he hissed, unsheathing his claws.

"Another few days, Graykit," Sandpaw meowed, looking almost smugly at Graykit, who was larger than her. Graykit was just about a quarter-moon younger. Sandpaw remembered Fuzzykit and Maplekit with a pang, but shook it off. She was an apprentice now; she had to celebrate.

Cats came up to her, Dustpaw, and Ravenpaw, congratulating them on being apprentices. Sandpaw looked hopefully at Redtail, who was coming over, but he just grunted something to Ravenpaw and Dustpaw, and left the camp.

Dustpaw noticed Sandpaw's ears flattening, and meowed, "Don't mind him. Not much of a father, if you ask me."

Sandpaw sighed. "You're right. At least Petalstorm was a great mother to me." Sandpaw thought fondly of Petalstorm, and hoped that she was watching from StarClan.

"And Leapfoot," Ravenpaw added, scuffling the ground with his left paw as he looked at his new mentor, Tigerclaw, who was looming over Darkstripe menacingly. Sandpaw now thought of the gentle but strict Leapfoot, now in StarClan also.

"Still," Sandpaw mewed, "he's your mentor, Dustpaw. Which means if we train together, we'll be stuck together."

"I'll make sure he won't bother you," Ravenpaw meowed, more boldly than they had ever heard him. When Sandpaw and Dustpaw looked at him in amazement, he mewed quickly, "Well, you know, I know you don't like him and stuff..." Embarrassment was radiating off of him in waves, and Sandpaw and Dustpaw stifled _mrrows _of laughter. Ravenpaw had liked Sandpaw since she had barely opened her eyes.

"Come on, guys," Sandpaw meowed, flicking her tail. "Let's go see if we can train."

"My mentor left," Dustpaw meowed, rolling his eyes.

"Well, let's get Tigerclaw and Whitestorm," Sandpaw meowed, and padded over to the fresh-kill pile, Dustpaw and Ravenpaw at her heels.

"Hello, Sandpaw," Whitestorm meowed, setting aside his finch and looking at her, his blue eyes sparkling. "Are you ready to be an apprentice?"

"I've _been _ready," Sandpaw scoffed. "In my opinion, kits should be made apprentices at _four _moons. I was ready even before that!"

Whitestorm tipped her head. "There's a reason that the warrior code states you must be six moons."

"Okay, okay," Sandpaw mewed, "can we just go and train?"

"Where's Redtail?" Whitestorm meowed, looking around. Then, remembering that he had hit a sore spot with Sandpaw, he added quickly, "We don't need him. Dustpaw, fetch Tigerclaw." Dustpaw nodded and sped off to the other side of the camp, where Tigerclaw was deep in conversation with Darkstripe and Longtail.

Sandpaw and Ravenpaw shuffled impatiently as Dustpaw came bounding back, Tigerclaw and his followers sauntering behind him.

"So, Ravenpaw," he growled, unsheathing his unusually long claws and scraping them along the ground, "you are my apprentice. And I will teach you everything I know." Sandpaw wondered why his eyes flashed as he said this, and why he spoke so slowly and measuredly.

"Let's go," Whitestorm meowed, flicking his tail. He and Tigerclaw led the way out of the camp, Ravenpaw following them wide-eyed, and Dustpaw and Sandpaw sharing guilty glances with each other. For Ravenpaw, being outside of camp would be new, but Dustpaw and Sandpaw had snuck out of camp more times than possible to count.

Whitestorm led them up the ravine, which, after much practice, was easy to Dustpaw and Sandpaw, but difficult to Ravenpaw. He scrabbled and slipped, and finally Tigerclaw got so impatient that he hauled him by the scruff to the top, where Ravenpaw scuffled the ground and mewed smally, "Thanks." Dustpaw ducked his head away so that Ravenpaw couldn't see the snigger that was forming on his face. Whitestorm looked suspiciously at Sandpaw, who leapt nimbly and easily to the top, but he said nothing.

"That was the ravine," he meowed. "It shelters our camp and makes it harder to attack."

Sandpaw's mind started to wander as they moved through the Twolegplace border and Tallpines, the RiverClan border and Sunningrocks, Snakerocks and the Great Sycamore, the Owl Tree and the Sandy Hollow, the Thunderpath and ShadowClan border. Finally, annoyed, she muttered, "When are we going to fight?"

"What was that?" Whitestorm asked politely.

"When are we going to have battle practice?" Sandpaw meowed, though more respectfully.

"You don't get to have battle practice on your first day as apprentices," Tigerclaw snarled, and Sandpaw was shocked to hear him mutter under his breath, "Miserable little whelp." She looked at Dustpaw, but he didn't seem to have heard.

"You all deserve to go back and choose first from the fresh-kill pile," Whitestorm meowed cheerfully. "You all did well today. You're going to make a great group of apprentices."

Tigerclaw said nothing.

"I thought that was pretty easy," Dustpaw mumbled as he chose a vole from the fresh-kill pile.

"I'm exhausted!" Ravenpaw panted, flopping down with a chaffinch. "I won't be able to remember all that stuff!" He looked at Dustpaw and Sandpaw with wide amber eyes. "Don't you agree?"

Dustpaw tucked into his vole. Sandpaw looked warily around, then mewed, "Ravenpaw, we've already seen all that stuff."

Ravenpaw gaped at her. "But how? You didn't sneak out of camp, did you?" Then understanding dawned on him. "Oh. You did."

"We asked you if you wanted to come the first time," Dustpaw whispered.

"I don't remember that."

"Maybe because you were two moons old at the time."

"I guess..."

"Hey, guys!" Graykit came bouncing over, his gray fur bristling in excitement. "How was your first day as _apprentices_? You don't look tired at all!"

Sandpaw jerked her head. "Apprentices have boundless energy, I suppose."

"I want to be an apprentice!" Graykit whined. "It's only a quarter-moon away, why not?"

"Maybe Bluestar thinks it'd make us feel bad," Ravenpaw meowed, chewing his chaffinch thoughtfully. "We're older, and maybe she thought we'd feel as though we weren't special or as important if we let a younger cat become an apprentice with us."

"We wouldn't think that," Sandpaw added quickly as Graykit opened his mouth to complain. "But Bluestar doesn't know."

"Maybe instead of a quarter-moon, she'll wait three days," Dustpaw meowed, his mouth full of vole.

Graykit shrugged. "Maybe."

"Anyway, I think Willowpelt will be looking for you," Sandpaw meowed, looking at the sky that was turning different shades of orange and purple. "It's nearly dusk. If not Willowpelt, Frostfur will be worrying her head off, I can tell you that." Frostfur was a queen who had a litter of two kits, Brackenkit and Cinderkit. Another queen was Brindleface, who was expecting what seemed to be four kits.

"Go on," Dustpaw urged.

Graykit twitched his ears as a final farewell, and trekked back to the nursery.

Sandpaw looked at the first star that appeared in the darkening sky. Dustpaw and Ravenpaw followed her gaze.

"Make a wish, I guess," Ravenpaw murmured, and shut his eyes tight. Dustpaw gazed amusedly at Ravenpaw, whose claws were dug in the ground and eyes were clamped shut and his teeth gritted, then lightly looked at the star also. His eyes glazed over as he was lost in his thoughts.

Sandpaw looked at the star, racking her brain for something good to wish for. Did she want to be the best warrior ever? Maybe, but maybe she just wanted to be a great warrior. What did she want more than anything?

Her gaze traveled to Redtail.

()()()()()()()()()()

Sandpaw awoke the next morning to the sweet smell of herbs.

"What's going on?" she mumbled, turning over.

"Tigerclaw sent me to come and wake you up," Spottedleaf meowed in her soothing, cool voice.

"Why would he send you?" Dustpaw murmured, looking up at Spottedleaf with wide amber eyes. Sandpaw _mrrowed _to herself quietly. Nearly every tom in the Clan was padding after Spottedleaf, the medicine cat, even though it was forbidden.

"Because I was there," Spottedleaf meowed, sounding slightly annoyed at Tigerclaw. "Now, you'd better get up, because you know how Tigerclaw gets." Huffing, she spun around and stalked out of the den.

Dustpaw stared after her, tipping his head and sighing. "Why do all the pretty ones have to become medicine cats?"

"Let it go," Sandpaw meowed, cuffing him over the ears. "Anyway, she's right. You know what Tigerclaw's like."

The three apprentices stretched and yawned, and stumbled out of the dens. By habit, Sandpaw immediately sat down and began her morning wash.

"What are you doing?"

Sandpaw's tongue froze on her paw.

Tigerclaw was looming over her, casting a shadow. "We are leaving right now," he growled. "No time to wash." Sandpaw stood and started padding away guiltily, looking back to see Tigerclaw make a few quick licks on his flank before getting up to follow.

Sandpaw, Dustpaw, and Ravenpaw staggered up the ravine after Whitestorm.

"What are we doing today?" Ravenpaw panted as they reached the top, Whitestorm's blue eyes sparkling.

"Today, we're going to teach you how to cut moss properly," Whitestorm mewed.

Ravenpaw nodded, but Sandpaw and Dustpaw stiffened in outrage.

"Cutting moss?" Dustpaw meowed in disbelief. "We're cutting _moss_?"

"Is there a problem with that?"

Sandpaw groaned as Redtail came around a tree, the dawn patrol of Darkstripe, Lionheart, and Goldenflower behind him.

Dustpaw opened his mouth to retort, but Whitestorm lightly brushed his tail over it first, then responded lightly, "Redtail. Are you going to join us to train your apprentice?"

Dustpaw looked revolted.

"I don't want that piece of dog-faced fox-dung to be my mentor!" he hissed, loud enough for everyone to hear him.

Redtail's lip curled. "Perhaps I should come along," he drawled. "It seems that Petalstorm failed to teach her son manners."

At this, Dustpaw swelled in fury, anger coming off of him in waves. "Take that back, badger-face!" he snarled, racing forward so he stood nose-to-nose with Redtail.

Redtail was silent, just rolling his eyes to the sky.

"You flea-bitten piece of crow-food!" Sandpaw shrieked, and hurled herself at her father.

Redtail deflected her with a swipe of his unsheathed paw. Sandpaw fell back, stunned and hurt, blood dripping down her side.

Tigerclaw looked as though he were thoroughly enjoying this. Darkstripe looked to see how Tigerclaw was reacting, then tried to look the same. Goldenflower gasped and buried her face in her brother's fur, as Lionheart looked at Redtail in shock and bewilderment.

Whitestorm stepped forward. "That's enough," he mewed sternly. "Redtail, take your patrol back to camp. Join us if you want; we'll be by the mossy tree."

Redtail dipped his head mockingly. He turned and padded past the fuming Dustpaw, and sneered at Sandpaw, who was wincing at the salty tang of her blood.

"Why's he such a jerk?" Sandpaw muttered as Redtail pranced away. "What did I ever do to him? I mean, I know my mother's dead, but why's that my fault?"

"It's not," Whitestorm meowed gently.

"He just thinks it is, because she died having you," Tigerclaw snorted.

Whitestorm glared at him, then added to Sandpaw, "It's not your fault in any way. Redtail really loved your mother, and since she died because of having you, he just believes--"

"That I killed her," Sandpaw meowed dully. "That I'm a murderer. Petalstorm and Leapfoot told me the whole story the day they died. They thought I should know the truth before the greencough took them forever."

Ravenpaw and Dustpaw's eyes glistened with sadness, and Sandpaw realized with a pang that they were all motherless. She couldn't shake away the savage thought, though, that no one believed they had killed their mothers on purpose.

"I wish that Redtail would just try to finish me off, then," Sandpaw growled.

"I'd like to see him try," Dustpaw meowed, the sadness being wiped away with viciousness.

Whitestorm cleared his throat, and Sandpaw remembered that she shouldn't be talking about senior warriors like that in front of other warriors. "Sorry," she meowed quickly, "I just--"

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Whitestorm meowed firmly, "I went temporarily deaf and didn't hear anything you said. Now, Tigerclaw," he mewed, glancing back at the still camp entrance, "I think this will be on us to train these apprentices, so let's head to the mossy tree."

The three apprentices followed the two mentors, twisting and turning throughout ThunderClan territory, until they arrived at a tall oak tree. Moss grew around it in soft clumps, enough to fill the nests of most of the warriors' den.

Sandpaw watched listlessly as Whitestorm told them how to use their claws correctly, and Tigerclaw demonstrated by tearing up neat clumps of moss using his unusually long ones. Dustpaw and Ravenpaw did the same perfectly, but Sandpaw's mind was still in a whirling fury at her father's neglect and abuse that she dug up huge quantities of dirt with her moss, and she cringed as she thought of what the elders would say.

"Sandpaw."

Sandpaw looked into the kind blue eyes of Whitestorm.

"I know what you're going to say," she meowed wearily. "I need to get my mind off of Redtail. It doesn't matter. Blah, blah, that sort of thing. I hear you. And I'll try to do better."

Whitestorm sighed, and mewed, "Sit." Surprised, Sandpaw sat, and looked at Whitestorm. "When I was two moons old, I lost my mother."

"I'm sorry," Sandpaw meowed sympathetically, though barely containing the bitterness she wanted to spill.

"I know how you're feeling, Sandpaw, with Redtail. My mother was Snowfur, Bluestar's sister," he added. Sandpaw's eyes widened, and she nodded for him to continue. "Snowfur was out for a walk with Bluestar, then Bluefur, and they found some ShadowClan cats on ThunderClan territory. Snowfur, tired of being stuck in the nursery, decided to chase them. Back to their border." Whitestorm locked his blue gaze on Sandpaw's bright green one. "She was hit by a monster. Bluefur had to tell me that Snowfur was never coming back. I didn't believe her." Now Whitestorm looked at the sky. "I waited. For days. Wailing in the night, for Snowfur's warmth, and her milk, and her soft, soothing voice. After about a moon, I realized that she wasn't coming back. She had left me." Whitestorm's eyes traveled to the ground. "Thistleclaw, my father, believed it was Bluefur's fault. He didn't let her near me. He loved me too much." Whitestorm's eyes fixed on Sandpaw's again. "And that was the problem."

"Why was it a problem?" Sandpaw meowed fiercely. "Your father loved you."

"Like I said, too much," Whitestorm mewed mournfully. "Whenever Thistleclaw was away, I would find Bluefur and ask her to teach me a fighting move. She always said I was too young. I didn't believe her at the time," Whitestorm looked wry, "but what kit would? Thistleclaw would take me away from Bluefur. He just wanted to make me happy, for me to follow in his footsteps of a great warrior. So he would teach me battle moves. Far too advanced for a little kit like me. You wouldn't believe how many times he hid me away somewhere, away from Bluefur who was trying to help me, and fought with me. How many times I bled. Begged for him to stop. Which made me wonder if he ever really loved me at all."

Whitestorm's story was touching Sandpaw so deep that she felt like wailing in agony for him. She could just imagine Whitestorm as a little, innocent kit, with a long scratch on his side, pleading for his father to stop. She vaguely remembered Thistleclaw, his fierce pride, and his mangled body at his vigil.

"He died at his own expense," Whitestorm meowed. "He tried to fight off a whole patrol by himself. They ripped him to shreds. You remember?" he mewed grimly as Sandpaw's face twisted in revulsion at the memory. "He was found in a pool of his own blood. I still wonder to this day if he is in StarClan."

"Where else would he go?" Sandpaw asked curiously.

"That's for later," Whitestorm meowed, standing up suddenly. "But I hope you see what I'm trying to get at, Sandpaw."

Sandpaw nodded. "I do. Other cats have had horrible lives too. I have to stop feeling sorry for myself, and live my life without being angry at Redtail all the time."

"Exactly." Whitestorm brushed his tail along her flank, and nudged her to her feet. "Let's get some nice, soft moss for the elders, shall we?"

()()()()()()()()()()

Sandpaw trotted back from the elders' den, feeling pleased. All the elders had praised her excellent moss-cutting, and told her it was the softest moss they had ever felt since Bluestar was an apprentice herself. Sandpaw hoped they meant that Bluestar had brought in moss for them in the warriors' or apprentices' dens; she thought it would be sort of frightening if elders could live that long, since Bluestar was elder-aged herself.

Sandpaw picked a plump vole from the full fresh-kill pile, and sighed contentedly as she looked up at the stars. This greenleaf had been harsher than most of the others, with less prey than usual and more Twoleg activity. But the fresh-kill pile was still usually well-stocked, and Sandpaw hadn't seen any Twolegs since her excursion out of camp when she was two moons, where she was nearly eaten by a slavering Twoleg's dog.

Tucking into her mouse, Sandpaw watched Redtail beadily out of the corner of her eye. Redtail was talking to Bluestar, and it nearly made Sandpaw sick to look how he was sucking up to her, and looking like a completely normal and kind-hearted deputy.

Sandpaw stood up, her mouse falling from her jaws. She turned to face the medicine cat's den, where she knew Spottedleaf would be sorting herbs and making wraps.

Sandpaw went and buried her mouse bones, then tromped over to the medicine cat's den.

She wanted to find out why her mother had died.

()()()()()()()()()()

Sandpaw found Spottedleaf deep within her den, staring frustratedly at an herb wrap she was trying to make. A huge yawn escaped her mouth, and all the leaves and flowers fluttered around, messing up the whole wrap.

"I really need to find an apprentice," Spottedleaf muttered, her eyelids drooping. She looked sheepishly at Sandpaw. "Have you ever considered becoming a medicine cat?"

"Yes, I have, and I realize that I would hate it," Sandpaw meowed firmly. "Now, I have a question."

Spottedleaf got to her paws. "What is it?" she mewed, her soft and cool voice resuming.

Sandpaw swallowed, gazed into Spottedleaf's kind amber eyes, and mewed, "Were you there...the night I was born?"

Spottedleaf froze. "Why?" she asked sharply. Then she relaxed. "I guess I knew this was coming..." She shook her head. "No. There was no medicine cat present. My mentor, Featherwhisker, was dying. I was out fetching herbs to help him on his journey to StarClan. I didn't think of your mother, Sandpelt. You were born far too early. In fact, I was more worried about my sister--Willowpelt, you know, Graykit's mother--kitting while I was away. If all had gone well, you would be a quarter-moon younger than Graykit."

"So...why did she die?" Sandpaw murmured.

Spottedleaf looked down on her kindly. "Like I said, you were born far too early. Some things went wrong...and there was too much blood. Your mother bled her life out while having you."

"Oh," Sandpaw whispered, trying to push away the horrible image.

Spottedleaf sighed. "Is Redtail still bothering you?"

Sandpaw ducked her head.

Spottedleaf sighed again, more noisily. "I've _told _him, you wouldn't _believe _how many times I've told him, to leave you alone, it's not your fault that Sandpelt died! But no, he just has to be that big-headed brother who doesn't listen to _anybody_."

Sandpaw shrugged. "Whitestorm's helping me ignore him. I'll be okay."

"Alright." Spottedleaf stared hard at Sandpaw. "But you tell me if he's still bothering you, okay? Promise?"

"Okay," Sandpaw muttered, averting her eyes.

Spottedleaf yawned. "Now, I have got to get some sleep." Glancing wryly at Sandpaw, she padded back into her den, stretching.

Sandpaw made her way back into camp, and sat down next to Graykit, who was sitting outside the nursery, staring at the stars.

"Willowpelt probably wants you to go inside," she mewed softly.

Graykit sighed. "Well, she can get me when she wants me."

"What are you thinking about, Graykit?" Sandpaw asked suddenly.

Graykit started. Then he stared at Sandpaw and mewed unconvincingly, "Being an apprentice." Sandpaw knew that something else was bothering him, but she didn't push.

"Graykit!"

Graykit groaned as Willowpelt's head stuck out of the nursery.

"It's late," she scolded. "Come back inside."

As Graykit stomped into the den, Sandpaw realized she couldn't imagine being younger than Graykit.

()()()()()()()()()()

The next morning, Sandpaw awoke to wind howling through the den.

"Storm!" Dustpaw yowled, standing at the entrance, his fur flattened. Ravenpaw was huddling in the most sheltered corner, looking scared.

Rain started trickling through the thickly woven branches, landing on Sandpaw's nose. Sandpaw fought her way next to Dustpaw and hissed, "What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know!" Dustpaw mewed fearfully. "There never seemed to be storms like this in the nursery!"

Sandpaw hissed, and leapt out into the middle of camp.

There were no cats to be seen. The fresh-kill pile was sodden and unedible. The trees were bending like they would snap, and Sandpaw had to crouch and dig her claws into the ground to stop herself from blowing away.

"Sandpaw!"

Sandpaw looked at Dustpaw, whose eyes were wide.

"Get back here!"

Sandpaw didn't need to argue. As she turned to go back to the den, there was an earsplitting _crack!_ Sandpaw whipped around in fear and awe as a tree started to fall.

Time seemed to slow down. The tree would fall between the nursery and the elders, crushing all those beneath it. Sandpaw stared at it. Thunder crashed overhead, and lightning zigzagged down from the sky to land on the falling tree.

The tree lit up in a blaze of fire. Sandpaw could only watch as the tree fell down to the ground, flattening half the nursery. Then, in a sudden horror, she realized that she was in its way.

The world went black.


	3. Chapter 2

_Sandpaw was walking through the forest, feeling bitter._

_Whitestorm, Tigerclaw, Darkstripe, Lionheart, Dustpaw, Ravenpaw, Graykit, and some cat she didn't recognize were at her side._

_"Now, Dustpaw, can you demonstrate to our new apprentice some of our fighting moves?" Whitestorm meowed, turning to Dustpaw._

_Dustpaw sneered. "I don't want to show _that _our moves!"_

_Whitestorm rolled his eyes. "Okay...Sandpaw?"_

_"No!" Sandpaw heard herself say indignantly._

_"Just ignore them," Graykit murmured to the unfamiliar cat._

"Sandpaw! _Sandpaw!_"

_The strange cat was standing on the Highrock, apparently speaking to the Clan._

"Sandpaw, please, wake up!"

_The strange cat was gazing at Sandpaw, his green eyes sparkling, his flame-colored pelt flashing..._

"_SANDPAW!_"

Sandpaw blinked her eyes open.

Dustpaw was standing over her, panic in his amber eyes. "Sandpaw!" he mewed, looking a little less worried. "You're awake."

"Where am I?" Sandpaw murmured.

Dustpaw moved away so that Sandpaw could see.

She was still laying in the middle of the camp, but the fallen tree was gone.

"Where'd the tree go?" she queried.

"The storm broke it up," Dustpaw meowed. "We were able to move it."

"How long've I been out?" Sandpaw groaned.

"A few days," Dustpaw meowed. He grimaced. "You don't know how disconcerting it is, to just come back from patrol and expect to see an unconscious cat in the middle of camp. Spottedleaf didn't want to move you, she said it might cause more damage."

"Damage to what?" Sandpaw asked, now trying to move. She found that she couldn't. Her left side was stuck in a stiff poultice.

"Why were you so worried just now?" Sandpaw meowed.

Dustpaw shifted. "You were twitching and muttering in your sleep," he mewed quietly. "It was kind of scary."

"How was I hurt?"

"You sure ask a lot of questions," Dustpaw mewed. "The tree branches fell on you, and one hit you in the side and burned you. The rain put out the fire almost immediately, though, so the camp didn't catch."

"What about the nursery?"

"It's damaged, but it'll be fixed. No one was hurt; they were all luckily on the other side."

"That's good," Sandpaw mewed, then flapped her tongue out of her mouth. "I'm thirsty."

"I'll get Graypaw to get some," Dustpaw meowed, looking around.

"Wait...he's Graypaw now?" Sandpaw mewed.

"Yes," Dustpaw meowed absentmindedly. "Graypaw!"

Sandpaw saw Graypaw out of the corner of her eye. He came bounding over. "Sandpaw, you're awake!" he exclaimed.

"Hi, Gray_paw_," she meowed, emphasizing the _paw._

"Yup, I'm an apprentice now," Graypaw mewed, puffing out his chest. "No more listening to Willowpelt all the time!"

"Graypaw, get Sandpaw some water," Dustpaw meowed.

Graypaw wilted. "Why do _I _have to do that?" he whined.

"Graypaw! Sandpaw was dying a few moments ago!" Dustpaw snapped.

"Oh, right," Graypaw meowed, suddenly looking alert.

"Go!"

"Water!" Graypaw screeched, and bolted out of the camp.

Dustpaw shook his head wearily. "I don't know what we're going to do with that cat," he muttered.

"Dustpaw! Patrol!"

Dustpaw raised his head to look at Redtail, waving his tail impatiently as Mousefur and Runningwind looked out from behind him.

"Coming," Dustpaw groaned.

"I'll be fine," Sandpaw mewed, watching him go. "I have Graypaw to look after me, don't I?"

"Better stick with Ravenpaw when he comes back from hunting," Dustpaw advised.

Sandpaw watched the patrol leave the camp. She sighed wearily, almost wishing she could go with them.

Sandpaw waited for what seemed like eternity for Graypaw to come back. She guessed he'd probably gotten distracted. She hated how every cat looked at her as though she were a freak for surviving what happened to her. Sandpaw bared her teeth at Cinderkit, Frostfur's energetic, fluffy, little, gray she-kit, and Cinderkit, who had been gaping at her as though she were a talking badger, squeaked and bounced away.

Sandpaw looked toward the medicine cat's den, wondering when Spottedleaf would come and check her over. Sure enough, she saw the dark tortoiseshell emerge from the fern tunnel to her den. Spottedleaf saw that Sandpaw was awake, and she briskly padded over.

"Good," she meowed, checking over the poultice. "Yes, I think that we can take this off now."

"Really?" Sandpaw mewed. "I would've thought it'd take much longer for me to heal up."

"It seems you healed pretty fast," Spottedleaf meowed, "faster than I would have thought possible. But, I suppose, even medicine cats don't know everything about the rate different cats heal."

Spottedleaf chipped away at the poultice, until finally Sandpaw could flex her muscles. It was slightly sore, but when she twisted her head around to look at the damage, she was surprised to see that her fur was already growing back.

"Yes, that looks quite good," Spottedleaf meowed approvingly. "Your fur isn't as long as your other side, but it's not that noticeable. The only cats who could tell are the ones who have known you since you were a kit."

"That's great," Sandpaw meowed absently. "Could I go for a walk?"

"Around the camp," Spottedleaf warned. "I still don't want you climbing up the ravine."

"Can do," Sandpaw mewed, nodding her head.

Spottedleaf suddenly surveyed her beadily. Sandpaw flinched slightly at her fierce gaze. But, as soon as the look had come on, it left Spottedleaf's face, to be replaced by her usual calm, beautiful features.

Sandpaw made a questioning sound in the back of her throat. Infintesimally, Spottedleaf shook her head, as if saying that it was not the time to explain. Before Sandpaw could say anything more, Spottedleaf walked briskly back through her fern tunnel. The ferns rippled, enclosing Spottedleaf in their fronds.

Sandpaw shrugged slightly to herself, and began stepping in a few delicate circles. Her muscles were tense. Sandpaw stretched stiffly, then loped around the camp. She saw that the tree had not caused that much damage to anything but the nursery, which was fixed and looked as good as new. Basically, it looked like the tree incident had never happened.

Sandpaw was making her third lap around the camp when she heard it. The gorse tunnel at the entrance of camp was rustling, and in stepped Bluestar and Lionheart, with Graypaw trailing excitedly behind them. Bluestar and Lionheart went directly to her den, as Graypaw bounced over to Sandpaw, his amber eyes wide.

"Guess what?" he meowed, shaking slightly to stop himself from bursting out what he wanted to say, and completely ignoring the fact that Sandpaw was up and walking.

"The stream dried up, and that's why I'm going to die of thirst?" Sandpaw mewed, suddenly remembering her dry tongue.

"No!" Graypaw shrieked.

"Then, what is it?" Sandpaw mewed impatiently.

"That's just it," Graypaw whispered, his voice dropping. "I can't tell you!"

"Okay," Sandpaw hissed, whipping around painfully. "Now, where's Ravenpaw? Is he back? I must have missed him. I need water."

"Oh." Graypaw's face fell. "I forgot about that."

Sandpaw took a long, deep breath. Suddenly, a peculiar and slightly disgusting scent hit her, and she thought back to when she had been shown the borders of ThunderClan territory.

"Is that...?" She breathed again, and shuddered. "Is that..._kittypet_?"

Graypaw shuffled uncomfortably.

"Graypaw!" Sandpaw hissed. "You were hanging out with kittypets!"

Graypaw averted his eyes. "Well, not _exactly_..." he mumbled.

Sandpaw scooted away from him. "That's gross, Graypaw. Seriously. Go fall in the stream or something, but don't come back until you smell better." Sandpaw paused in thought for a moment, then mewed, "Actually, go fall in the river with a ball of moss. Then bring it back to me."

"On it," Graypaw muttered, and sulked out of camp, his tail dragging in the dirt.

Sandpaw wondered what Graypaw had been so excited about. Did it have to do with that kittypet scent?

* * *

Sandpaw looked ruefully at the night sky. How she wanted to just be able to leave camp and go out for a nice run! Nights were her glory; it was a time when she could just feel like she was flying without a care. She loved the feel of the cool night air rushing through her pelt, blowing away any worry that she may have....

"Sandpaw?"

"Hey, Spottedleaf," Sandpaw sighed, looking up at her aunt. She was surprised to see that Spottedleaf looked uncomfortable. "What's up?"

"You seem to be healing very well, and I think you can go back to apprentice duties now," Spottedleaf mewed, looking around distractedly.

Sandpaw got to her feet. "What's wrong?" she demanded forcefully, looking Spottedleaf full in the face.

Spottedleaf's amber eyes flickered to Bluestar's den. "Nothing."

"You can't lie to me."

Spottedleaf flinched as though Sandpaw had clawed her.

"Tell me!" Sandpaw growled through her teeth.

Spottedleaf sighed. "We're going to battle with RiverClan at sunrise."

Sandpaw stared at Spottedleaf. "Now what's _really _up?"

Spottedleaf looked startled. "What?"

"That's no surprise, Spottedleaf," Sandpaw meowed exasperatedly. "Now what's really got you worried? Even if you are worried about the battle, I can tell that's not the only thing."

Spottedleaf shook her head. "You know me too well."

"Cut the stalling, Spottedleaf. Just tell me."

"Well..." Spottedleaf looked around again, making sure no one was within earshot. Then she turned back to Sandpaw and murmured, "Bluestar says we need more warriors. She's thinking of letting a kittypet into the Clan."

Sandpaw felt her heart plummet to her feet. That explained why Bluestar and Lionheart were being so secretive, why Graypaw smelled of kittypet and said he couldn't tell anyone why....

"Why would she do that?" Sandpaw hissed, raking her claws in the ground. "There are four apprentices already, and Frostfur and Goldenflower and Brindleface are all having kits!"

Spottedleaf shook her head wearily. "I don't know, but I can't change her mind. It seems this kittypet already knows some battle moves, and when she asked him into the Clan, he seemed like he was going to accept, though he said he wanted to think it over."

"Kittypets can't be warriors!" Sandpaw snarled. "What's wrong with me? And Dustpaw? And Ravenpaw? Why aren't we good enough for her?"

"Don't think of it that way," Spottedleaf pleaded.

"What other way could it be?" Sandpaw snapped.

Spottedleaf didn't reply.

"Exactly," Sandpaw hissed. She spun around and raced through the gorse tunnel, out of camp. Spottedleaf called after her, but she didn't listen. Blind rage was building in her head, and everything she saw was seen through a blood-red haze that she felt she didn't want to shake off.

Sandpaw leapt up the ravine as though she had wings on her paws, and then pounded toward the border with Twolegplace. All she could hear was the thumping of her heart, her ragged breathing, and the wind whistling through her ears as she ran faster than she ever had before.

She would make sure this kittypet knew what they were getting into.

Sandpaw slowed at the border and parted her jaws, letting the stench of Twolegs wash over her senses. She picked up many kittypets, but she was able to sort through the scents until she found the familiar one that had clung to Graypaw's pelt.

Suddenly, Sandpaw was struck with a wave of doubt.

If it was better for her Clan...

Should she do this?

Sandpaw sat down, stumped by her own philosophical thought.

Why _shouldn't _she?

Why shouldn't she scare the kittypet until it was like all the others, thinking that wild cats grew to the size of badgers when they were angry and sharpened their bloodstained claws on the bones of their enemies?

The Clan needed more warriors.

The fact was simple.

It didn't matter how good a fighter and a hunter she was. If there were more cats, even if they didn't come up to her standards, it would still be more fresh-kill, more sets of claws.

Sandpaw's conscience struggled with her pride. Finally, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew she couldn't scare the kittypet. If the kittypet wanted to join the Clan, ThunderClan needed it badly.

Feeling sullen, Sandpaw took advantage of the greenleaf prey and killed a couple of mice. She skidded ungracefully down the ravine and into camp, and left the mice on top of a thrush, which was the fresh-kill pile. Redtail would have to send out more hunting patrols tomorrow, Sandpaw thought, the bitterness welling up in the back of her throat as always as she thought of Redtail.

She crept back into the apprentices' den. Dustpaw, Ravenpaw, and Graypaw were all sleeping peacefully, their flanks rising and falling in rhythm. They must not have known of her excursion out of camp. Sandpaw settled in her nest next to Dustpaw and closed her eyes, willing for sleep to come.

Unfortunately, it never did, and Sandpaw finally became so impatient that she stood up and stretched. Judging by the way the sunlight filtered into the den, Sandpaw guessed it was just about time for the dawn patrol to come back. She was surprised that her mentors had not angrily tried to awaken her before dawn, and so Sandpaw bounded out of the den to see what was happening.

A terrifying sight met her eyes. Tigerclaw was standing next to Bluestar, a long and flayed cut on his shoulder still oozing dark red blood. Bluestar was looking around at her assembled cats.

"Go and wake the others as Tigerclaw reports to me," Bluestar ordered. She turned to Tigerclaw. "Tell me everything."

"Those RiverClan scum were flouting about on our territory!" Tigerclaw growled, unsheathing his long claws.

Bluestar's blue eyes clouded with worry. "Past their claim of Sunningrocks?"

"Yes!" Tigerclaw hissed. "This is the perfect opportunity to take back Sunningrocks, and to show those fish-faces why they should never dare step on our territory again!"

Yowls of agreement rose from the crowd. Willowpelt raced past Sandpaw into the apprentices' den and began rousing the apprentices with sharp words.

Immediately, Dustpaw was standing on Sandpaw's right.

"What's going on?" he murmured, not a trace of sleepiness in his voice.

"RiverClan's been on our territory," Sandpaw hissed back, "and I think Bluestar's going to arrange a patrol to attack them!"

At the word _attack_, Graypaw and Ravenpaw appeared on Sandpaw's left. "Attack!" Graypaw yowled gleefully, his amber eyes shining, while Ravenpaw squeaked, "Attack?" like a kit.

"We're going to take back Sunningrocks!" Bluestar declared, and every warrior and apprentice was now present below the Highrock.

"We will take two patrols," Bluestar meowed firmly. "Redtail, take Mousefur and Willowpelt. You will attack first. At Redtail's battle cry, Tigerclaw, lead Runningwind and Ravenpaw in after. You should not need any more warriors than that, but if you do need more, send Ravenpaw back to fetch more."

Ravenpaw was staring at Bluestar as though she had sprouted wings. "Me?" he mewed shrilly. "I'm supposed to go and battle?"

Bluestar nodded. "You are Tigerclaw's apprentice. He is a strong warrior, and he will guide you."

"I'm Redtail's apprentice. Why don't I get to go?" Dustpaw muttered.

"Because Redtail isn't as great as Tigerclaw," Graypaw meowed fervently.

"Yeah," Sandpaw agreed.

The two battle patrols charged out of camp. Bluestar signaled to Lionheart and Whitestorm. She murmured, "You can take care of our other situation." With a jolt, Sandpaw realized that she meant the kittypet. Sandpaw closed her eyes briefly, and then opened them. She promised herself that she would be kind to the kittypet, and treat it so that it would become as good as any Clanborn cat, though she knew it couldn't.

"What's the _other situation_?" Dustpaw muttered. "Sounds ominous."

Graypaw shifted uncomfortably.

Sandpaw quickly changed the subject. "Poor Ravenpaw. Having to battle when he doesn't even seem to want to be a warrior."

"He'd make a better nursing queen," Dustpaw remarked. "Always worrying about everything."

"Or a medicine cat," Graypaw meowed thoughtfully. "Then he wouldn't have to fight, only help his Clanmates."

"We should suggest that to him when he gets back," Sandpaw mewed lightly, not saying _if he gets back._ "Spottedleaf does need an apprentice."

"Sandpaw."

Sandpaw looked at her mentor Whitestorm. "What's up?" she asked.

Whitestorm looked at her curiously. Sandpaw felt her fur prickle under her mentor's intense blue gaze. Finally, Whitestorm sighed, and meowed, "Have faith in the Clan. No matter what happens." Sandpaw realized that Whitestorm didn't like battle any more than she did. Whitestorm was probably as worried about Willowpelt, who he had been padding after for ages, as Sandpaw and her friends were for Ravenpaw.

"It'll all work out," Sandpaw assured him, feeling strange about comforting her mentor.

Whitestorm shrugged, then padded through the gorse tunnel after Lionheart, his shoulders almost seeming weighed down with seasons of nothing ever working out.


	4. Chapter 3

Sandpaw waited anxiously beside Dustpaw and Graypaw, staring at the gorse tunnel. Any moment, the battle patrols should be coming back, or Whitestorm and Lionheart should be bringing the kittypet. Either situation sent prickles of anticipation through Sandpaw's paws.

Finally, the gorse rustled. Sandpaw, Dustpaw, and Graypaw leapt to their paws, bristling with excitement.

Whitestorm and Lionheart came through the gorse tunnel. Sandpaw stared after them and scented the air. Their pelts smelled faintly of kittypet...

But there was no kittypet with them.

Disappointment crashed over Sandpaw like a wave, with a force she hadn't expected. Of course she ridiculed kittypets, but she had actually been looking forward to having another apprentice in the den. Then came the shame at actually hoping that a soft, flabby kittypet would be her friend.

Lionheart called for Bluestar. Bluestar padded out from the medicine cat's tunnel, looking hopeful, then immediately disappointed. Sandpaw strained her ears to listen to their conversation, as did Dustpaw and Graypaw.

"He came," Lionheart meowed heavily.

Bluestar flicked her tail. "What was the problem?"

"He said that he appreciated the offer," Whitestorm mewed, "but he didn't believe that he could leave his kittypet life. He said that he would rather come and go as he pleased than risk his life every day for cats he didn't know."

Bluestar stared at Whitestorm. Then she dipped her head. "I suppose I thought too much of the kittypet," she mewed. "The heat of the moment must have come over me, because of how desperately we need warriors."

Whitestorm brushed her shoulder with his tail. "Frostfur is expecting kits, you know," he mewed, "and Goldenflower and Brindleface have already moved into the nursery, they believe so heartily that they will have kits. So, that is many more warriors already."

"But we need them _now_," Bluestar insisted.

"We can speed up our apprentices' training, if that makes you feel any better," Lionheart mewed.

"But we still have eight moons of waiting until our next apprentices," Bluestar meowed feebly.

"Don't worry, Bluestar. Our warriors are fit, and our apprentices' training will be sped up. Before you know it, Frostfur's kits will be ready to start their apprenticeship. It'll be fine."

Bluestar sighed. "Indeed. Now, we have patrolled all our other borders, correct, Lionheart?"

"Yes, Bluestar."

"And the fresh-kill pile is stocked?"

"Yes, Bluestar."

"Then I suppose we only have to wait for...ah..."

Bluestar stared at the gorse tunnel. Sandpaw, Dustpaw, and Graypaw all spun around.

Willowpelt, Mousefur, and Runningwind came dashing through the entrance. All three were bleeding heavily.

Spottedleaf came bursting out of her tunnel, herbs clamped in her jaws and cobwebs wrapped around her paws.

"What happened?" Bluestar demanded.

"We were all injured," Runningwind gasped as Spottedleaf pressed a poultice into a horrible twisted wound on his flank. "Redtail ordered that we could all come back. There were only four RiverClan warriors left, and he said that he, Tigerclaw, and Ravenpaw could take them."

Bluestar shook her head helplessly. "We need to send more warriors," she decided. "Whitestorm, take Lionheart and Dustpaw to--"

"Wait!" Sandpaw cried out, flicking her ears. "I hear something!"

All cats stared as Ravenpaw came stumbling into camp. There was a gash on his shoulder that cut through right down to the bone. Sandpaw shuddered, but not at the wound. Ravenpaw's eyes were wide, not with pain, but with a haunted and terrified look that made Sandpaw feel chilled to the bone.

"Ravenpaw!" Graypaw cried, and rushed to his friend's side. Ravenpaw took deep, heaving breaths as he stared wildly around at his Clanmates.

Spottedleaf hurried over from Willowpelt and sniffed Ravenpaw's wound. "You'll live," she mewed, and gently tried to lay him down. But Ravenpaw shook his head, and cleared his throat painfully.

"Redtail is dead!"

* * *

Sandpaw stared numbly at her father's body. She didn't feel any need to sit vigil for the father who had always hated her, but she felt that maybe it would be betraying her complete lack of compassion for him. She still felt, no matter how much she tried to deny it, a small tie to her blood kin, and a small part of her told her that even if he was a lousy father, Redtail had been a noble warrior. He should be honored as such and not as the monster who he truly was.

Sandpaw shook her head wearily. Bluestar was sitting vigil next to her dear deputy's body, her head bowed with grief and the weight of the responsibility of choosing a new deputy before moonhigh. Already the moon was reaching its peak, and so Sandpaw wasn't surprised when Bluestar called the Clan together.

"I say these words before the body of Redtail, so that his spirit may hear and approve my choice." Bluestar paused, and her gaze swept the Clan. "Lionheart will be the new deputy of ThunderClan."

Lionheart raised his head in astonishment. Then happiness crept slowly into his expression, but not enough to chase away the grief for Redtail. The Clan chanted his name, and then went back to their dens or back to sharing tongues with Redtail for the final time.

Sandpaw pitied Dustpaw. He would have to stay up all night with his former mentor. It would be disrespectful to simply turn his back on him to sleep. Sighing, Sandpaw went back to the apprentices' den.

Sandpaw curled into her nest. She stared at the moss lining her nest, and at her pale ginger paws. Absentmindedly, she took one paw and drew it slowly across the side of her muzzle, feeling the scar that marred her face. She knew it wasn't really a scar; it didn't even show through her fur. It was just a slight bump, thanks to Spottedleaf's healing skills. But it was enough to remind her why she hated Redtail.

That night, Sandpaw dreamed.

_Tigerclaw was dragging Redtail's body through the gorse tunnel, Redtail's tortoiseshell tail dragging in the dirt. He looked small and breakable, so unlike he had been. Death showed his weaknesses...._

_Sandkit was climbing up the ravine with her father. She felt excitement course through her once again. She was going to be with her father! She didn't think that three-moon-old kits were allowed out of camp, but here Redtail was taking her, promising to show her a surprise._

_"What is it?" Sandkit squeaked in excitement._

_"Just a little bit farther," Redtail promised, his amber eyes glowing with something Sandkit couldn't place._

_Sandkit scented the air, and wrinkled her nose. "It smells stinky!" she complained._

_"That's RiverClan," Redtail mewed. "They're our enemies right now."_

_"Oh." Sandkit's eyes grew wide. After a moment's pause, she asked, "Are we there yet?"_

_"Yes." Redtail stopped and turned to face Sandkit._

_Sandkit was confused. What was the surprise? They were only in a little clearing, almost completely entangled in brambles, aside from the part they entered._

_"What it is?" Sandkit asked again, more uncertainly._

_Suddenly, Redtail's eyes gleamed with malice and hatred. He unsheathed his claws, and bundled Sandkit to the side, sending her flying into a swathe of brambles._

_"Ouch!" Sandkit wailed. "Wh-what was that for?"_

_Redtail loomed over her. "You killed your mother," he hissed through his teeth. "You are a little murderer. Your mother was kind and sweet, but then you came and killed her in cold blood. You are dishonorable, and you deserve to be punished."_

_He swiped her across the muzzle with his claws. Sandkit cried out in terror..._

"Sandpaw!"

Sandpaw jolted awake, and cried out as she saw a foreboding shape above her.

Dustpaw was looking down at her, looking horrified. "You were shrieking in your sleep," he meowed, sounding unnerved. "You kept thrashing around and screeching."

Sandpaw shivered, and stifled a small wail. Dustpaw settled down next to her, and pressed his fur against hers.

"What was wrong?" he asked, his amber eyes shining with worry.

"Just a...just a nightmare," Sandpaw gasped, flattening her bristling fur.

Dustpaw licked her ear. "It's fine," he promised. "It was probably just because of Redtail dying yesterday. It shocked you."

Sandpaw shook her head. "Who's your mentor now?" she whispered.

Dustpaw looked to the entrance of the den. "Bluestar told me she'd appoint one at dawn," he meowed. "It's just about time, so we'd better get going."

Sandpaw stood up and shook out her fur. Redtail's death had stirred up all the memories she had been trying to push down, trying to eliminate so she could treat him with the indifference that she would treat any other warrior. She swallowed the bitter hate that rose in her throat and followed Dustpaw out of the den.

The elders were carrying Redtail's body out for his burial. Sandpaw realized that this was the last time she would ever see Redtail, and was unable to force away the relief and freedom she felt at the thought of never seeing him again. I'm free, she thought joyfully. I'm free at last.

Bluestar called a meeting. The cats gathered beneath the Highrock and gazed up at her, already expecting what was about to happen.

"Even with Redtail's death at the claws of Oakheart," Bluestar began, "the training of our apprentices must continue." Sandpaw noticed that Bluestar shifted uneasily at Oakheart's name. Sandpaw couldn't bring herself to be curious. They'd probably had met in battle before, and he had left a scar, one of many that lanced across Bluestar's body. "Dustpaw needs a new mentor. Darkstripe," she called to the tabby tom, "you are ready for your first apprentice. You were mentored by Tigerclaw, and he taught you many great things. Pass on his and your bravery and determination to young Dustpaw, and may you continue the great training that Redtail had started."

Dustpaw nodded his head and touched noses with his new mentor. He then padded back over to Sandpaw and shrugged. "I guess I don't know Darkstripe all that well. I guess we'll just have to see what kind of mentor he is."

Graypaw stumbled sleepily out of the apprentices' den. "Is it dawn already?" he yawned.

"It's been dawn for quite a while now," Dustpaw meowed.

"Is Ravenpaw coming?" Graypaw mewed, looking around for his friend.

"I doubt it. He got hurt pretty badly yesterday." Sandpaw arched her neck toward the fern tunnel, and sure enough, Spottedleaf emerged, shared a few stern words with Tigerclaw, and slipped back toward her den.

Lionheart was sitting below the Highrock organizing patrols. Sandpaw, Dustpaw, and Ravenpaw each slipped up next to their mentors and waited for Lionheart's decision.

"We need to patrol the borders," he declared, "as well as send out some hunting patrols. Tigerclaw, take Mousefur, Longtail, and Sandpaw to patrol the RiverClan border. Whitestorm, take Runningwind and Graypaw to patrol the ShadowClan border. I will take Darkstripe and Dustpaw with me to hunt. That leaves Willowpelt to guard the camp."

Sandpaw fell into step behind Mousefur as the three patrols left camp.

"See you," Dustpaw muttered as his patrol headed for the Great Sycamore.

Sandpaw nodded in return, then raced to catch up with her patrol.

"Stay with us, Sandpaw," Tigerclaw grunted.

"Nice to know that he'll notice if one of us gets carried off by an owl," Mousefur remarked.

"Very funny," Longtail snapped. "Now, stay with Tigerclaw." He looked admiringly at the dark tabby warrior.

Mousefur snorted. "Honestly. The way some of you cats act around Tigerclaw, it's like he's StarClan's gift or something. Mind you, he is pretty amazing," she added.

Tigerclaw froze when they reached Sunningrocks. "What do you smell, Sandpaw?"

Sandpaw parted her jaws, glad to show off her skills in front of Mousefur and Longtail. "RiverClan, of course," she mewed. "And blood. Not fresh, though. About a day old, of course, because of the battle."

"Good," Mousefur praised.

Longtail nodded at her. "Impressive for how long you've been an apprentice, and those days you missed."

Tigerclaw grunted again. Mousefur twitched her whiskers in amusement at Tigerclaw's noncommittal answer.

Tigerclaw padded warily out onto Sunningrocks. Sandpaw caught her breath at the devastation. Blood spattered the rocks, and fur littered the area in all different colors. Claw marks stretched along the gray surface, and there was even a small rockfall under the one Sunningrock.

Tigerclaw lifted his head proudly. "Sunningrocks belongs to ThunderClan once more!" he yowled.

Mousefur and Longtail joined in with their enthusiastic yowls. Sandpaw opened her jaws to join them, but prey-scent flooded her senses, making her turn away from her patrol and stalk a water vole, taking its life with a quick bite.

_Thank you, StarClan, for feeding our Clan, _she thought as the wonderful musky taste made her mouth water.

Tigerclaw, Mousefur, and Longtail padded up behind her. "Go ahead and eat it," Longtail mewed. "We're not a hunting patrol, anyway, and we'll probably get lots more to take back."

Sandpaw quickly gulped down her mouse and licked her jaws.

"We need to finish the RiverClan border," Tigerclaw growled, and turned in the direction of RiverClan territory.

Mousefur's ear twitched in annoyance. "Do we really have to?" she complained. "We just defeated them yesterday. I don't think they'll be up and patrolling anytime soon, and it's along the gorge, anyway. I don't think that they'll cross into our territory by flying over the gorge."

"We live in a Clan, and we must follow the warrior code, Mousefur," Tigerclaw scolded.

Longtail stood nervously in between them. "Maybe we should just...finish up the territory quickly. And hunt on the way," he added, looking nervously from Tigerclaw to Mousefur.

"That sounds like a good idea," Sandpaw meowed firmly. "Let's go."

Tigerclaw bounded to the beginning of the gorge, and Longtail followed, hard on his paws. Mousefur followed more slowly, with Sandpaw at her side.

"I'm still much younger than Tigerclaw," Mousefur mewed mischievously. "When he goes to StarClan, it'll all be just mice and moonlight for me."

Sandpaw nodded, looking at Mousefur with new eyes. Mousefur was always very strict and determined, and Sandpaw had never really seen this playful side of her before.

Tigerclaw's patrol checked the gorge briefly, then went for a quick hunt. They didn't spend much time hunting, but already when they headed back to camp Sandpaw had caught two mice and a chaffinch.

The patrol dropped their loads off onto the ever-growing fresh-kill pile. Tigerclaw took Sandpaw's chaffinch and went to talk with Lionheart. Mousefur went to share tongues with Willowpelt, and Longtail padded into the warriors' den, murmuring about a sunhigh nap. Sandpaw sat contentedly by the nettle patch, pleasantly full, and watched Frostfur and Goldenflower pad out of the nursery. They sighed in unison, and stretched out in a sunny patch of grass, warming their swollen bellies. Sandpaw wondered when their kits would arrive. She hoped soon; she and Graypaw were the youngest cats in the Clan, and already they were apprentices.

"Hey, Sandpaw!"

Sandpaw looked up as Graypaw bounced over to her, looking excited. "Whitestorm said that he and Runningwind were taking us out for some hunting practice!"

Sandpaw sighed. She had already been hunting today, but she realized that she only knew how to catch mice and voles well. Her bird technique could use some work, because she had only caught the chaffinch because it had been too busy finding food to notice her. Also, she didn't really have any idea how to catch a rabbit, save for what Longtail, then Longpaw, had shown her when she was a kit.

"Lead the way," Sandpaw meowed, getting to her paws.

Graypaw dashed eagerly to the camp entrance, but then slowed in confusion when he saw that Whitestorm was already leaving camp, and Runningwind was just sitting beside the gorse tunnel.

"Are we supposed to follow him?" Graypaw asked Runningwind, flicking his ears toward where Whitestorm disappeared.

"Why would you?" Runningwind asked, licking his paw and drawing it over his ear slowly.

"I thought you and him were taking us out!" Graypaw meowed, now sounding desperate.

Runningwind realized that Graypaw's usual eagerness had prevented him, once again, from hearing correctly. "I _am _taking you out," he meowed, "but with _Bluestar_."

Sandpaw's eyes widened in surprise. It seemed to dawn on Graypaw what Runningwind had said, because he immediately brightened and mewed, "Oh. No wonder Whitestorm said I was being disrespectful when I told him I wanted to do some battle training instead."

Sandpaw flicked her paw with excitement. Bluestar was going to see what a great hunter she was! She hoped that all she was asked to do was hunt mice.

Bluestar came out of her den and padded over to Runningwind. Runningwind dipped his head, then looked at the apprentices and mewed, "Bluestar wanted to assess you herself. She heard you were doing well. That's a great honor."

Sandpaw and Graypaw bowed their heads until their noses nearly touched the ground. "Hello, Bluestar," Sandpaw meowed breathlessly. "I'm glad that Whitestorm has been reporting good things about me. I have been working hard."

"Yes, me too!" Graypaw injected.

"So I have heard." Bluestar fixed Sandpaw with her blue gaze. "I am surprised at your quick and eager recovery, but pleased nonetheless. ThunderClan will be lucky to have someone with your determination as a warrior. You too, Graypaw," she added.

Sandpaw felt herself swell with pride. Bluestar had just praised her!

"We're going to go to the training hollow, and you are going to show me what you already know," Bluestar meowed. "Then we will work on technique, and finally we will send you out on an assessment."

An assessment already! And she had been an apprentice for only a half-moon.

"So, let us go to the sandy hollow." Bluestar swished past the two dumbfounded apprentices and pushed through the gorse tunnel. Runningwind followed, flicking his tail to signal for them to keep up.

"I think she's disappointed," Graypaw murmured. "Because the kittypet didn't come." When Sandpaw looked at him in surprise, he mewed, "Oh, come on. I _know _that you knew already. You're not stupid. And you're _so_ easy to figure out."

Sandpaw bristled. Easy to figure out? She had a lot of emotions that Graypaw didn't know about!

"Keep your fur on. And we should get going," Graypaw meowed, and left the camp. After a moment's hesitation, Sandpaw followed.

Graypaw heaved himself up the ravine, puffing overdramatically as he flopped over the edge. Sandpaw scampered up beside him, and watched Runningwind's tail disappear in the undergrowth.

"Come on!" Sandpaw hissed, prodding Graypaw with her paw. "Or we'll lose them!" Graypaw scrambled to his feet and raced hard on Sandpaw's heels as she raced after Runningwind and Bluestar.

Finally, completely exhausted, Sandpaw came to a halt by the Owl Tree. Graypaw stood behind her, panting.

"Nice of you to join us," Runningwind meowed dryly, twitching his ears impatiently toward Bluestar.

"Oh, calm down, Runningwind," Bluestar teased. "I remember when you were my erratic apprentice. You never showed up to training in the same _moon_, let alone a few pawsteps behind!"

Runningwind twitched his nose. "Hm."

Bluestar turned to the apprentices. "Well, then, let's get started. Show me a good hunting crouch for stalking mice."

Sandpaw crouched, trying to keep her weight in her haunches to keep her paws light.

"Good, Sandpaw," Bluestar meowed approvingly. "You still need to be a little lighter, but you're getting there."

"Graypaw," Runningwind moaned, "what has Lionheart been teaching you?"

"What?" Graypaw meowed defensively, his tail swishing in the air as he leaned awkwardly to his left. "I'm more lopsided than a one-legged badger!"

Bluestar shook her head. "Concentrate, Graypaw," she chided gently. "Keep your weight in your haunches. Raise your tail, just enough so that it doesn't drag on the ground."

Graypaw struggled to follow her directions. Finally, he seemed to be in a better, though still heavy, position.

"We'll work on it," Bluestar meowed. "You have only been an apprentice a quarter-moon, correct?" Graypaw nodded. "Usually apprentices train for six moons," Bluestar mewed. "You still have five and three-quarter moons to go."

Graypaw groaned. "So I'll be an apprentice as long as I was a kit! It'll never end!"

"Some cats have been apprentices for over nine moons that I knew," Bluestar snapped. Graypaw immediately closed his mouth.

Runningwind shook his head. "You don't want to cross her. The first four moons were okay, but the last five were torture, trust me." Runningwind pulled a face.

"Well, show me your bird-stalking technique," Bluestar continued.

It was relentless, Sandpaw thought as she watched the sun creep across the sky. Endless learning techniques and practicing techniques....Sandpaw began to feel frustrated and hot as she couldn't get down the rabbit-stalking technique.

Finally, as the sun was sinking, Bluestar meowed, "That's enough for today. Runningwind, you worked well with the apprentices." Runningwind dipped his head. Sandpaw knew he was expecting an apprentice now. Sandpaw didn't see how Runningwind did any better than her and Graypaw. He had gotten just as frustrated and had gotten very impatient with them. Sandpaw didn't really think he had the attention span to mentor an apprentice.

"Nice work, Sandpaw, Graypaw," Bluestar meowed. "Begin expecting this almost every day. We are going to speed up the training of our apprentices, so you must be ready and alert at dawn every day."

Sandpaw didn't see how they could go any faster than they did today.

Feeling completely worn out, Sandpaw took a large thrush off the fresh-kill pile after Whitestorm gave his permission. She tore at it ravenously, ignoring the stares her Clanmates gave her. Graypaw sat by her, eating a vole, and soon Dustpaw and Ravenpaw came with mice in their jaws.

"Tough day?" Dustpaw asked as he gulped his mouse.

"You can say that again!" Graypaw mumbled through a mouthful of vole. "We barely had time to think! They kept throwing us techniques and tips left and right. I barely remember half of them now."

"We were battle training," Dustpaw mewed. "They said that we were speeding up our training. That means we'll be warriors sooner, though. If I have to go through that every day to be a warrior in three moons instead of six, I'll take it." Dustpaw took another bite of mouse.

"Still," Graypaw mewed, swallowing, "it was kind of crazy."

"I heard you did well today, Sandpaw," came Whitestorm's deep voice. Sandpaw looked up at her mentor. "Bluestar seemed pleased with your progress."

"I'm glad," Sandpaw meowed.

"You show the makings of a great warrior, recovering so soon after your father's death," Whitestorm meowed. His words stung her a little at the thought that she had never really grieved. Whitestorm continued, "I am very proud of you. Tomorrow we will go out and hunt for real, and put those great techniques you learned into practice." Whitestorm padded away.

Sandpaw turned back to her thrush and took a mouthful. "More hunting!" she grumbled. "I was hoping for some battle practice."

"Maybe he doesn't want to play up any injury or anything," Dustpaw mewed.

"If what we did today didn't, I don't know what will," Sandpaw sighed, finishing her thrush with a final gulp. "Bury that for me, would you? I'm just so exhausted, I feel dead on my paws."

"Sure," Dustpaw mewed. "What are friends for?"

Sandpaw ignored the sarcasm in his voice as she padded into the den. She knew Dustpaw must be as tired as she was, but she knew Dustpaw would do anything for her. She would have done the same for him.

Sandpaw fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


End file.
